by Ethan Jones
“And you’ll get us some records, because memories are unreliable.”
“Us?”
“Yes, it’s as important for me to know who’s after the drive as it is for you, right?”
Ajaz locked eyes with Javin. “Who do you work for?”
“That’s irrelevant. The important thing is for you to help me, and, in the process, help yourself.”
“And then you’ll let me go?”
“Once everything is wrapped up, yes. I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“And I can trust your word?”
“You did once. Have I disappointed you?”
Ajaz thought about his answer. “Well, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but—”
“No, no buts. Your life is safe. A surgeon will come to treat your wounds. If we can wrap everything up in a day or two, then you’ll go back to your team.”
“And everything will be as it was before?” Ajaz said in a voice dripping with irony.
“As much as is possible, and as much as you want it to be. From now on, whatever happens with you depends totally on you, and how much you’re willing to cooperate.”
Ajaz gave Javin a slight nod. He opened his mouth to speak, but let out a dry cough. “Can . . . can you get me some water? My throat is dry.”
“Sure. It will be a moment.”
When Javin returned, Ajaz said, “I have someone who could give us some intel.”
“The name?”
“I’ll call him.”
Javin shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“He’ll never trust you.”
“Once I have the name, I’ll check him. If everything’s good, you’ll make the call.”
Ajaz did not say anything.
Javin shrugged. “Well, think about it, but don’t take too long. If I get that intel from another source, I won’t need your help anymore. You know what that means?”
Ajaz frowned. “We’re back to threats now?”
“No, promises. I want you to know what’s going to happen.”
“It will be your word against mine.”
Javin smiled. “Keep thinking like that, and you’re going to regret it. A lot.”
He left Ajaz’s glass of water on the nightstand within his reach and walked out of the room.
Chapter Ten
CIS Safehouse
Istanbul, Turkey
Javin spent about thirty minutes talking to Zeki and Tolga. They had no updates about developments in the police investigation. The police still had no leads on the kidnapped MIT operative. Since Javin had destroyed and thrown away Ajaz’s cellphone, there was no tracker to pinpoint his location. But the police and the MIT were working vigorously to find Ajaz. The first twenty-four hours were crucial in such cases.
Zeki and Tolga had also come up empty-handed with regard to any sins of Ajaz’s past. There seemed to be nothing that could be used against him in his recent work records or family situation. Javin urged them to dig deeper, claiming no one was that clean. Even Javin—who believed himself to live according to upright and honorable standards—had done things in the past, on behalf of the agency, of which he was not proud. If someone outside the agency found out about those actions, they would come back to haunt him.
He was making a fresh pot of coffee when Claudia called. Javin wiped his hands on a small towel over the sink, then picked up his phone. “Go for Javin,” he said in a warm tone.
“Javin, the drive has a tracking bug,” Claudia’s voice rang with urgency and concern. Ambient noise came from the background.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, unfortunately. I’ve been followed for the last fifteen minutes over six city blocks.”
“Where are you?”
“Across from the Blue Mosque. Of course, I noticed no one following me in a vehicle. Unnecessary, since the drive’s device showed my location at all times. But once I got out of the car, two goons showed up. They’ve been shadowing me ever since.”
“Are you safe?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely. They’re not going to make a move in a public square. Plus, they wouldn’t want just the drive, but their operative as well.”
Javin frowned. “Yes, and that’s what I’m worried about. The MIT may want to exchange you for the operative.”
Claudia let out a small laugh. “They’d have to detain me first. Ain’t gonna happen.”
“Just be careful, will you?”
“Of course, all the time.”
Javin drew in a deep breath and wondered what to do with the drive. They had copied the flash drive’s content onto a tablet that was never connected to the Internet. If the files were somehow infected with tracking software that was activated if they were copied, staying offline ensured the triggered signal did not betray the flash drive’s location. But the original drive was still important. It had the seal of the Turkish Ministry of Energy and Natural Resources. Javin did not know much about software security, but he appreciated the fact of possessing the original copy containing the intelligence, in case the authenticity of the files was challenged.
“Perhaps we should ditch the drive,” Claudia said in a hesitant tone.
“Yes, I thought about that, but we may need the original copy. Let’s get it scrubbed clean.”
“How?”
“One of my DGSE contacts. Their station would have a sophisticated detector.”
“Where’s the station?”
“By the French consulate, on Tarlabashi Boulevard.”
“Good. I think I can be there in half an hour.”
“All right. My contact, Louis, knows I may need a hand, so he should be ready by the time you reach the station.”
“Yes, and we’ll have company.”
“Right, and I’ll tell Louis about that. I doubt MIT would dare to attack the French intel station.”
“No, but our presence there along with the drive will give away the station’s location and will make it clear the French are involved.”
“The station’s location is an open secret. Both France and Turkey pretend it’s a diplomatic building, some sort of a cultural center. And once the tracking device is deactivated, the signal will be lost.”
“All right, let’s hope Louis or whoever is part of his tech team has swift fingers.”
“Louis is more a quick-on-the-trigger kind of guy, but I’m sure he has experts who’ll clean the drive.”
“All right, Javin. Anything else?”
“Getting nowhere with Ajaz, but trying to see if I can convince him to cooperate.”
“Are you trying the ‘traitor’ scenario?”
Javin smiled. “I am, yes.”
“That was going to be my first option too. We’re so alike, Javin.”
“We are, indeed.”
“Anything new from Zeki or Tolga?”
“No, nothing yet, but they’re still trying to figure out what exactly the police know about the incident, the involvement of the MIT and the MI6. And Martin is contacting his MI6 counterpart.”
“Martin? When did you talk to him?”
“Shortly before you called. I was going to brief you when you returned to the safehouse, but I’ll tell you now what he said.”
Javin gave Claudia a short summary of his conversation with their boss. Claudia said she was going to be surprised if MI6 was involved in the incident. MI6 was famous for their refined techniques of operating in the background and using smoke and mirrors. “There must be something very vital in that drive to push them to such overt actions.”
“Yes, my exact thoughts. We should know more soon.”
“That’s good, Javin. Hopefully, it’s by the time I get to the DGSE station.”
“Yes, and perhaps we can put this matter to rest. Remove the tracking bug, find out how MI6 fits in into this puzzle, and see what’s in the drive.”
Chapter Eleven
Blue Mosque
Istanbul, Turkey
Claudia cross
ed the small square, heading to the southeastern entrance to the mosque. She did not look over her shoulder. The two men following her were keeping their distance. It would take them a few seconds to go around the corner and come into her view.
She glanced at the mosque’s two tall minarets piercing the sky. Then her eyes went to the signs informing tourists of the acceptable attire required for visiting the mosque: long pants for men and long skirts, long sleeves, and headscarves for women. Claudia sat on the brown bench with faded paint across from the mosque. She pretended to talk on her phone and glanced stealthily toward the corner.
The surveillants following her showed up as expected. They cast a sweeping gaze at the square, then one of them glanced at something in his hand. Claudia wondered if it was the tracking device monitor indicating the flash drive’s location, which was deep in her inside jacket pocket. The other surveillant—who was in his late twenties, the older of the two—saw Claudia and elbowed the first one. He looked in her direction. When his eyes met Claudia’s, she glanced away, then turned her phone toward the mosque, as if to take a picture. Time to go, girl.
She shrugged. In another time, she would have wanted to visit the mosque and enjoy the centuries-old frescos and the rich history of perhaps the most famous landmark in all Turkey. Not today, for sure.
Claudia stood up and turned around. She headed south, walking at a hurried pace along the old wall. She sidestepped a stray black dog, who was sitting in the warm spring sun. The creature looked scraggly and gave her a sad look. She wanted to pet him or her, but Claudia was not sure if the dog was friendly to strangers. She offered the dog a smile, then rounded the corner.
The narrow alley connected to the parking lot. Claudia planned to complete the circle and return to her white Renault Fluence sedan. It was the same model as the one that had been riddled with bullets earlier in the day, with the same armored configuration. In an hour, she would be joining Javin at the French intelligence agency’s station.
A few tourists meandered through the alley. She nodded at them, and one of the tourists waved at Claudia. She took a few more steps, then a man stepped from a side alley. He was about fifty yards away, but she could tell he was not a tourist. No cameras, no flashy hat or t-shirt. And he was looking at Claudia, not the ancient architectural attractions all around him.
That’s not good.
She turned her head.
The two men appeared around a corner thirty yards behind her.
Claudia was boxed in.
She shook her head. Instinctively, her hand hovered over her Sig pistol. The adrenaline rushed through her body and her brain. Her mind served her up a couple of scenarios, in which she would pull the trigger, and the three men would be dead in the same number of seconds.
But she was not an assassin.
Not any more.
Now she worked as a corrector.
She would have to achieve the same result, only make it look natural.
Even better if she could slip through their fingers.
Claudia nodded. Yes, let’s go with that. A clean exit.
Her eyes searched for the nearest escape route. A gate that had been left a crack open about ten steps to her right was the most obvious choice. What if that’s a trap? She looked further away to her right. A taxi was parked near the gate of the next house. That’s perfect.
She broke into a sprint and ran toward the taxi.
The driver was putting a large suitcase in the trunk, so he did not see Claudia until it was too late. She jumped over the hood of the taxi, then climbed onto the roof and leaped over the tall wall.
The driver shouted behind her.
A bullet zipped next to her head.
No, they didn’t.
She pulled out her Sig. The rules of engagement changed when correctors were fired upon. They had to fly under the radar, but they were free to return fire if their life or the lives of others were seriously under threat.
Claudia dropped into the yard and bolted across. It was filled with construction materials, tools, and rolls of sod. It slowed her down, but it was going to provide some cover if she needed it.
And she did.
Claudia had barely taken five steps when a barrage of bullets thumped around her. She rolled onto the newly laid sod and crawled behind a heap of decorative bricks. She peered around one of the corners at the man firing at her. He had taken a position near the open gate.
She squeezed off a couple of rounds, aiming high over the man’s head. Her bullets pinged against the gate. The man dropped behind it.
As the barrage stopped, Claudia dashed toward the nearest corner of the house, about twenty steps away. She covered about half the distance without anyone firing at her.
Then a bullet kicked up dirt near her feet. Others struck the wall to her right.
Claudia ducked and ran bent at the waist in a zigzagging pattern around the heaps of bricks. She did not want to return fire blindly and lose precious time. The shooter had the upper hand. If she slowed down for even a split second, a bullet might find its target.
She reached the corner of the house unharmed and glanced over her shoulder.
One of the two men who had been following her stepped inside the yard.
Claudia fired a single round that struck the man’s arm. He dropped the pistol and hid behind a stack of rolls of sod.
She rounded the corner and jogged alongside the house. When she came to the other side, she holstered her pistol, scaled the wall, and dropped down into a back alley that forked in three directions. The left would take her to her sedan, but she shrugged off that thought. The surveillants would run toward the parking lot, if they had not done so already. The next alley also seemed to turn to the left, so she decided to take the third, which went right. Claudia remembered the general layout of the area. Barring any complications, she would be able to reach the wide Kennedy Avenue and escape by seizing another car. She would not be able to shake off the surveillance as long as she had the flash drive with the tracking device inside on her.
She sighed and tapped the front of her jacket. The flash drive was there. They’ll be less likely to open fire when we’re on the busy avenue full of cars and people.
Chapter Twelve
One block south of the Blue Mosque
Istanbul, Turkey
Claudia raced through the cobblestoned alley. Curious glances fell on her from people going about their business and patrons sitting at sidewalk cafés. She ignored them and pressed forward toward Kennedy Avenue.
She had covered perhaps fifty yards or so when she caught a glimpse of one of the men chasing her. It was the one in the blue jacket. The man had put his gun away, but he was running behind her.
Claudia thought about taking the next turn coming up on her left and walked toward it. This part of the neighborhood had mostly two- and three-story houses. Some of them were new, but others were in dire need of some tender loving care. As she came to the turn, a young man was unloading boxes of beer and other drinks onto the sidewalk from a white cargo van. A van? Not the greatest getaway vehicle, but it will do.
She slowed down just for a moment and glanced into the cab. The keys were in the ignition. She waited for a moment as the young man came for the next load. As soon as he headed toward the store carrying two heavy boxes, Claudia stepped behind him and slammed the van doors shut. Then she slid into the driver’s seat and floored the gas. The van slid forward toward the alley.
In the side mirror, the young man was shouting and waving his arms at her.
“Sorry, I’ll get it back to you . . . somehow.”
Claudia jerked the wheel and made the tight turn. As she came to the alley, she almost ran over the blue-jacketed man. He flattened himself against one of the houses, then pulled out his pistol.
“Oh, come on,” Claudia shouted.
The man fired a quick barrage.
Bullets pierced the back of the van and shattered some of the glass bottles.
Claudia ducke
d almost instinctively and stepped on the gas. Thankfully, there were no other vehicles in front of her in the one-way alley. She punched the horn to clear the alley of a couple of children playing with a soccer ball, then slowed down, as one of them was still in her path.
A moment later, she turned right into the next alley.
A couple of bullets thumped against the side of the van. More glass erupted in the back, but no bullets reached the cab.
Let’s hope this thing holds.
Claudia slowed down as she squeezed near a couple of SUVs and a taxicab parked half over the sidewalk and half in the alley. She glanced at the side mirror. None of the men were following her. She shook her head. They’re heading to their cars. They know where I’m going. I still have the drive.
She cursed the drive and the tracking device in it. At the station, we’ll get rid of it.
She came to a three-way intersection and turned right. She was now a block away from Kennedy Avenue snaking along the shores of the Marmara Sea. As Claudia’s van crawled to a halt behind three taxis, her eyes went to the rearview mirror.
There was no one there, but she knew the surveillants were not too far behind. She shrugged. I’ll deal with them when they show up.
She honked the horn to let other drivers know she was going to turn right. The intention was supposed to be clear, because her van was in the correct lane. But she was trying to make sure no one would cut in front of her from the left. In Turkey, most drivers considered the traffic signs and signals as optional, choosing to obey them if it fitted their situation.
Claudia was able to squeeze into the traffic before the lights changed. She drove for a few minutes without any trouble. Her eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and the side mirror. It was a strange set of circumstances. Some surveillance situations involved a high-speed chase when Claudia, the target, would identify the opposition and try to evade them. But this scenario was different. She could not see the vehicle or vehicles tailing her. But they were there. As long as she had the drive, they knew where she was going.